The emotions pouring off him made her dizzy, or was that the contact with his hard, lean body? The sexual pulse emanating from him and the feverish glitter in his dark eyes made her head spin.
His eyes stayed open and connected with her own as his lips moved across her parted lips, the contact a mere whisper, the progress agonisingly slow.
She shuddered and sank deeper into the suffocating excitement that caused her breath to come in short, shivery little gasps. His face blurred before she closed her eyes and the ache of hunger low in her pelvis dragged a sob from her aching throat as she whispered fiercely.
‘Please!’
The hoarse, hungry plea snapped whatever shred of control he retained as, with a moan deep in his own throat, Nik plunged his tongue into her mouth, plundering the warm recesses. The kiss grew wild, teeth clashed, tongues tasting with an escalating passion.
Rising up on her toes, Chloe put her arms around his neck to hold on for grim death. She could still hear alarm bells ringing but they were almost drowned out by the excited clamour of her own heartbeat. Her fingers dug into the smooth muscled skin of his shoulders and back as she pulled him closer, craving the connection of their bodies.
He’d still been clinging to the idea that making love to her was some sort of therapy to drive his devils away, but that illusion burned away the moment his hands began to move over her body, exploring the soft curves.
This wasn’t therapy, this was survival—he felt as though his life depended on this. He needed this; he needed her. No, it was just sex, he amended as he cupped one warm breast in his hand and held it, his thumb rubbing across the engorged peak as he kissed his way up the curve of her neck.
‘You make me want you!’ he growled, thinking that all she had to do was breathe and he was out of his mind with lust. ‘I just want to feel your skin on mine. I have to kiss and taste every inch of you.’
What was she doing? Your skin on mine, he’d said... In her mind’s eye she suddenly saw the puckered flesh of her thigh and imagined the shocked disgust on his face when he discovered it. And she couldn’t bear it.
‘No...no!’She pushed hard against him and his arms fell away. He stepped back, his chest lifting and falling dramatically as he appeared to struggle to draw enough air into his lungs.
‘What is happening here, Chloe?’
She gave a tight little smile and thought, I’m dying. ‘Nothing is happening. I just...changed my mind.’
‘You changed your mind?’ The lines of colour along his cheekbones stood out starkly against his blanched, sweaty pallor. He looked like a man in shock and he felt like a man in purgatory!
She took a deep, controlling breath. ‘You come with too much baggage for me... I like to keep things simple.’
His head went back as though she’d struck him; he was aching and hurting and mad as hell. She thought he was some sort of emotional cripple who needed taking care of and she didn’t want the job! The injury to his pride was almost as painful as the frustration that raged through his body. ‘It’s only sex, agape mou; I’m not asking you to marry me.’
She knew it was irrational to let the words hurt, but they did anyway. ‘Maybe, but just sex can get complicated.’
‘I’m a man of simple needs.’
She gave a bitter smile. ‘You don’t need to tell me that. As I recall you didn’t even manage to say a simple goodbye...’ She regretted the words even before she registered the speculation in his eyes and rushed into further speech. ‘I really think you should talk to someone qualified, about the nightmares, I mean. It’s good that you don’t drink to excess now, but the way you were that night...’
‘The night we had sex, you mean.’ He saw her flinch and was glad; she deserved to flinch after her harsh rejection of him just now. ‘There hadn’t been any nightmares that night because I hadn’t been to sleep.’
There was a beat of silence before a look of shocked comprehension slid across her face, taking with it any trace of colour that had been there. By the time she breathed again even her lips were bloodless and the only colour in her entire face was the burning blue of her eyes.
‘Charlie’s death had just happened, hadn’t it?’ But it wasn’t a question... Suddenly it all made sense: the darkness in him, the combustible quality of their chemistry, the driving need of his lovemaking—he’d been trying to burn away the pain of his memories in the fire of passion.
He tipped his head in acknowledgment, the weight in his chest painful as he looked at her standing there, frail and defenceless. Wasn’t there already enough guilt in his life?
‘You used me.’ Anger and hurt shimmered through her and she didn’t care if she was being rational; she didn’t feel rational.
‘I was too tired to fight you off,’ he shot back.
Chloe flushed. At what point had she thought he would ever let her in? ‘You really are a bastard.’
He didn’t deny it. How could he? It was true. She turned away. ‘Where are you going?’ He had to clamp his lips tight over the word stay! He had never begged a woman in his life, and he wasn’t about to start now.
‘Going?’ She turned back and lifted her chin. ‘As far away from you as I can get!’ she flung childishly. ‘And who knows? If I’m lucky I might find a man who is not afraid to admit he’s not perfect.’
‘Agape mou, you’re not looking for a man, you’re looking for a cause!’ he sneered contemptuously.
‘Maybe I am, but you’re a lost cause,’ she flung back. ‘You’ll never have a future until you forgive yourself for the past. And you don’t want me, you want a memory of something perfect... Well, I’m not that. I’m...’ Breathing hard, she fought her way out of the kaftan, ripping the silk as she tore it off her body and stood there naked in the light of the breaking dawn.
He sucked in a deep breath, his eyes moving down over her body. She watched his face and saw the exact moment when he reached the area where the skin was badly scarred, saw the shock and horror he couldn’t conceal.
That tiny flame of hope died right then and there.
‘You see, I’m not what you need. I’m not perfect any more.’
She had no idea how she managed to walk the few steps back to her room, oblivious to the fact he had followed her.